


Magnetism in a wooden church

by marynn_kokoelma



Series: Inktober - Boulet [One-Shots] [8]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: M/M, Mythology References, Norwegian Mythology & Folklore, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Symbolism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-09
Updated: 2018-11-09
Packaged: 2019-08-20 19:56:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16562204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marynn_kokoelma/pseuds/marynn_kokoelma
Summary: After the fall Will and Hannibal manage to escape to Norway where Hannibal finds a lovely source of inspiration.





	Magnetism in a wooden church

After the fall from the cliff, they had run away to the old continent. With an outrageous level of luck, they had managed to sail to France without any bad encounter and barely any verification of their identities. But staying in France was anything but a good idea, if Alana could find Hannibal easily in Italy, she or Jack where likely to look for any pattern of his in France as soon as his death ruled out. They left out all of south Europe out of question, as for England and the rest of the Great Brittany, they were too obvious destination.

It was Will that had proposed Norway, the country was not in the EU. It was known to mostly speak a better English that a lot of European countries and more important than the rest: they were known for being polite. Witch, voyaging with someone like Hannibal, was a huge pro. So they did move there, north to Tromsø. It was a smaller home that they were used to, painted red and white, a little rustic charm and a lot of space between them and the next neighbour. They lived there for six months without any event more than a few looks from local and Hannibal’s monthly excess at the local market for expensive fish, local vegetables and wooden sweater. And then the infamous event had append.

An American tourist had gotten lost in their property, and rater than apologize had gotten mad after Will for not indication this was private property if they did not want someone to come this close. Which was not the way things were done here… Hannibal had broken the neck of the woman without any warning, in a smooth movement. “Hannibal, you promised me not to. You promised not to!” Hannibal had seemed sincerely sorry but his response had seemed a lot like a ‘Can’t help it’ to Will. “You take care of it, discretely for once!” had added Will before storming inside the cabin.

Discrete was the opposite of what Hannibal had done. He had taken the corpse to an old church, the king of all dark wood only church, probably as old as the religion itself. The body had been sat on the altar, naked except of a white sheet on his laps, covering his personal package, a golden veil on the head falling like golden locks. He had a huge necklace, a traditional torc in grey metal but his skin under appearing glowing, covered in gold flakes. It was a reinterpretation of the painting Freya by John Bauer. Freya, goddess of love, sex, beauty and death.

Will have been the first to discover it: pushed by his curiosity he had followed Hannibal, but convinced himself to not interrupt him. “I do love you too” he had said, like it was obvious “but if you that once again, I’m killing you. And not with my hands this time.”


End file.
